


Hand Me My Leather

by Not_You



Series: Dreamhouse [4]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Established Relationship, Leather Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:36:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Phil's thing about leather is explored.</p><p>(Title taken from Tori Amos's 'Leather')</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hand Me My Leather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdamantSteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/gifts).



Making a new puppet always feels like having a child, so much effort and affection and worry and uncertainty. Phil always works to choose just the right materials, obsessing over the look and feel and weight of each one. He should have known he'd be in trouble when Tony suggested real leather for the new manatee puppet for the Republic of Undersea. Alone in the studio with a vast sheet of heavy, butter-soft blue leather, he tries not to get hard and fails. He tells himself he's just weighing in his hands to see which awl they'll need (because this is the perfect leather in the perfect blue, and they will be using it) but he holds it for much longer than he needs to, stroking the smooth surface and finally giving in and burying his face in it, whimpering as the scent overwhelms him. 

His first-ever boyfriend had bound Phil's wrists in front of him with a leather belt and then fucked him from behind as Phil whimpered and gasped in the scent, coming with his teeth sunk into the material to turn a scream into a helpless little muffled whine. There really hadn't been any going back after that. Now he nuzzles along the leather like a cat, breathing it in and remembering Clint in his leather jacket and nothing else. He groans softly, and adjusts his erection where it's trapped in his pants, biting his lip and pulling his hand away because he is way too old to come in his pants. Especially his Mr. Coulson pants. He jumps when the door opens.

"Hey, Phil?" It's Clint, thank god. That's embarrassing enough.

Phil blushes and clears his throat, squirming. "Yes?"

"Just wanted to know if you were done."

"I am." He stands up and rolls the leather up again, face flaming. 

Clint chuckles. "Oh, so that's how it is," he murmurs, coming up and wrapping himself around Phil from behind.

Phil shudders and leans back against him. "You know I like leather."

"Mmm, but I didn't know you'd get hard for it on its own." He nuzzles Phil's neck. "That's interesting."

"O-oh?"

"Yes." Clint bites Phil hard enough to leave a mark and leads him to the dressing room, waiting outside for him to change because Phil has a 'nothing past necking in the studio' rule and neither of them would be able to keep from breaking it just now otherwise.

"It just frustrates me," Phil gasps in the car, fighting the urge to unzip his faded jeans and get his cock out, "how little control I have over the response."

"It's fucking hot, Phil."

Phil just whines, because of course Clint is wearing his jacket, and now that he knows it's almost more than Phil can bear. The engine roars and they make a few bold passes, making it home in record time. Phil shuffles inside and then Clint is pinning him back against the closed door and devouring his mouth, hands roughly groping his chest, shoving Phil's shirt up and pinching his nipples so hard that Phil yelps, whimpering and struggling out of his jeans, dropping them and his boxers to the floor. Clint growls and bites Phil's neck again, slithering out of his own pants and pulling away to haul his shirt off. The jacket thumps to the floor and Phil whimpers before he can help it. Clint grins.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm keeping it on." He slides it on again and grabs Phil's arm, hauling him up to the bedroom. "How do you want it? I mean, I'll bottom if you really wanna top, but one of us is getting fucked good and hard and I'm hoping it's you."

Phil chuckles breathlessly. "Me too, Clint." He clutches at Clint's back, glorying in the feel of the sleek leather over hard muscles and in the warm scent of it mingled with Clint's own smell. Phil whines and buries his face in the lapel as Clint grabs the lube from the bedside table and slicks himself up, sliding two fingers into Phil, who takes them easily and moans for more, wrapping around Clint and clinging. He groans as Clint spreads his fingers, then wails as Clint carefully slips his cock in alongside them.

"Like that?" Clint growls, and Phil whimpers a helpless affirmative. The jacket is skin-warm under his hands, but cool everywhere else, and Phil rubs every part of himself that he can against it as Clint fucks him. As he hits just the right spot over and over, Phil lets out a loud cry, and Clint shudders, free arm pressing down on Phil's mouth, letting him bite the sleeve. The smell of leather fills his head and he feels mastered and taken as he stares up into Clint's eyes until his own roll back in his head as he comes. "Fuck," Clint whimpers, fingers sliding out as he struggles to stay still, "Oh god, I didn't even touch your cock oh please tell me I can move…"

"Move," Phil gasps, and rides a quivering little aftershock as Clint ruts into him a few more times and comes, whimpering and melting onto Phil.

"Jesus," Clint murmurs after a long, slow while of lying there in their cocoon of leather. "Didn't realize you liked it that much."

"You are pure porn in that jacket and I am a much put-upon man," Phil says, and then lets out a stoned little giggle, hugging Clint tightly.


End file.
